


The Doctor Is In(Sane)

by ImpulsivelyBlue



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 18:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpulsivelyBlue/pseuds/ImpulsivelyBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was bad. Whatever the situation was, it was bad. That was all Jason could think as he woke, groggy and in pain for what didn’t feel like the first time. On a scale of one to tem he would probably be around the thirteen mark, right about now.</p><p>Heh. Thirteen.</p><p>Numbly he realised that that shouldn’t have been the only thing on his mind, or that funny.</p><p>Obviously he had been drugged too. That and the fact he couldn’t remember what had happened, everything passed by in a blur of motion behind his eyelids as he closed his eyes. He could remember fighting. There was a lot of fighting and shouting and dirty punches being thrown all around the warehouse. Jason frowned and shivered, he hated warehouses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Doctor Is In(Sane)

\---

It was bad. Whatever the situation was, it was bad. That was all Jason could think as he woke, groggy and in pain for what didn’t feel like the first time. On a scale of one to tem he would probably be around the thirteen mark, right about now.

Heh. Thirteen.

Numbly he realised that that shouldn’t have been the only thing on his mind, or that funny.

Obviously he had been drugged too. That and the fact he couldn’t remember what had happened, everything passed by in a blur of motion behind his eyelids as he closed his eyes. He could remember fighting. There was a lot of fighting and shouting and dirty punches being thrown all around the warehouse. Jason frowned and shivered, he hated warehouses.

The fight had ended badly, obviously, but not just for him, he remembered running out of bullets and losing a few knives in the masked goons that had rushed at him. Landing knives in the most painful parts of their body and making sure what little they still had of their brains was a stain on the floor as he shot at them had been satisfying. Jason frowned again, hissing in pain. Joker goons. They had been joker goons.

Laughter bubbled in his throat, of course it was the Joker, who else would be stupid enough to stand against the Red Hood in his own territory? Only someone that was completely insane or stupid would do such a thing. And if there is one thing that people in Gotham knew about the Joker it was that he was insane. A rough laugh escaped from his lips, rough and husky and a little breathless.

He tried to move, wincing as mettle dug in to his wrists and ankles, holding him down on some sort of metal table securely. The surface he was laying on was smooth and cold to touch. It was uncomfortable, now he knew he was on his back, the metal table hard and unforgiving against him. Even the metal cuffs were cold, despite how long they had probably been holding his wrists and ankles still.

He frowned at a memory as it licked at the edge of his mind.

There had been pain he remembered.

 Pain and laughter.

 A high pitched laugh, that was sickeningly familiar. If there was any doubt or hope that Jason had been holding on to, telling himself it wasn’t the Joker, it was gone now.

And the pain. The pain was almost as bad as the burning, hurting, screaming pain of dying years ago. His skin screamed at him, every touch bringing fresh waves of pain, he thinks he screamed. He cant remember now.

He remembered someone standing over him, there had been words then. Words had broken through the laughter as the mad mean paused for breath.

The lights had been bright then, bright and had lit up the green, green, green of the clown’s hair and the purple of his suit. The light had added to the torture, stinging at his eyes and forcing him back in to the darkness of unconsciousness.

The darkness had been welcoming then, taking him away from the laughter and the pain, pain, pain. But now as unconscious licked at the corners of his mind ne couldn’t help be scared, all it could do was remind him how close to death he was again and how dark it had been to wake in his own coffin, buried six feet under and forgotten.

 ----


End file.
